Dream Girl : A Collaborative Fic
by ConiferousSiblings
Summary: This is a one-shot pinecest story written in collaboration with fellow fanfiction writer Sky-Pirate-Tat (tat-buns on tumblr). The twins are college aged and Mabel stumbles onto a secret while idly poking around one of Dippers occult books.


_"The danger in astral projecting lies in the fact that while you are travelling through the mind-space you may get tangled in the dreams of other sleepers."_

Mabel stared at the sentence, rereading it for the second time.

"Is this actually English?" she asked aloud to the empty apartment.

_"It is too easy to lose one's own ego inside the realm of another dreamer's subconscious mind, and risk losing your connection to the silver cord binding your drifting mind to your body. Only the most experienced dream-travellers should ever consider undertaking a direct mind link."_

"Well, obviously," Mabel said sarcastically.

Only silence greeted her remark and she curled her knees up a little tighter to her chest and sighed.

Making fun of Dipper's occult books was more fun when Dipper was actually around to hear her remarks. She dropped the book unceremoniously. Her nostrils flared as she took in an exaggerated breath, and then blew a loud, frustrated raspberry that echoed off the walls.

The walls to their apartment were thin. Normally the sound would have receded, drowned out by the videogame Dipper would be playing in his room, or his tried and true playlist for crunch time during exams. If she was loudly singing BABBA songs sometimes he would sing the next line back to her through the wall. Other times he would give a hard knock from the other side and yell, "I'm trying to sleep!"

He'd only been gone for a few days now, off on some sort of travelling competition with the rest of the school debate team. The first night hadn't been so bad — she'd blasted her music as loud as she wanted, cooked a messy meal that was mostly desserts which she didn't have to share, and fallen asleep on the couch with a selection of her favorite cartoons playing on the shared TV with no care at all for her bro's super-detailed schedule.

Of course, she tended to do things like that sometimes anyway, but it was nice to not get hassled for it this time.

The second night was significantly less fun though… Mabel hadn't thought about it much until now, but the fact was that she was almost never really alone. She'd had Dipper to keep her company literally all of her life — at home or school, she'd just sort of taken it for granted that he would be around. After the second night alone at their apartment she'd realized that this was probably the most time she'd ever spent without him being somewhere near by.

This college semester had kept her busy up until recently and there weren't as many drop-in visits to her brother's room like there had been in high school. She wished she was busy now or had some plans to keep her mind off the empty apartment. Her friends were all busy with their own homework and projects, and this weekend her professors had been oddly merciful.

Just as she wasn't used to being alone, being idle wasn't her shtick either. She tended to always have some sort of project going on. She had two books full of future sweater designs and currently had a mannequin in her room wearing a half-finished dress with galaxy print and astronaut kittens. It had been awhile since she took up her paints and canvas and there was that chicken apple pie recipe her aunt had sent her that she had been excited to try. But all of that sounded lackluster, and while she did want to do _something_, she didn't want to do any of that.

Tonight was the third night of their separation, and out of some strange instinct that she couldn't quite understand, Mabel had gone over to the bookshelf in the living room and grabbed one of Dipper's weird occult books at random. It was slightly worn at the edges, its pages still smelling faintly of the overpowering reek of frankincense from that weird bookstore that Dipper frequented sometimes. The pages were crammed with the cramped, angular lines of her brother's handwriting as he'd made notes in the margins.

She had read the notes in his voice without thinking about it, and for a moment she didn't feel so alone. But the jargon and text was hard for her to take seriously, and quickly lost her focus.

Not only that, but the fact that she couldn't understand all of what she was reading made her feel insecure. It wasn't that she didn't believe in the supernatural— she had seen too much of it to be a skeptic. It was the same problem that she had with Dipper's science and other nerdy textbooks. The texts were complicated and boring in her opinion, but worst of all, made her feel dumb. She picked the book up once more, intending to throw it at her dresser, but decided not to. She didn't care about the book, but Dipper did.

She opened the book, not caring that she lost her spot. She landed on a section that looked just as dry as the rest of the book and after skimming the actual body of text, her eyes lingered over Dipper's notes.

_Disappointing: the book is mostly trash, but has a few good points. Astral Projection ritual is completely bogus though— you can achieve similar results just by focusing right before entering REM sleep._

Mabel's lips curled into a small smile at the terse note. She could practically hear that little way his voice deepened when he was going into 'lecture mode' as she read it.

She turned back to the page, her attention shifting as she found a section marked in several different colors of highlighter: _Dream Projection and Mental Communication Between Siblings_.

"Hello there," Mabel said to herself, feeling unexpectedly intrigued.

_"Studies have shown that positive results of dream projection and mental communication are far easier to achieve when the subjects were related. This phenomena is shown to be especially strong between twins, who are known to share a particularly close psychic link."_

The word 'twins' had been underlined twice in red ink and a series of quickly scribbled lines of black ink were jammed into the slim margins on the side of the paper in Dipper's handwriting.

_Interesting. Should consider asking Mabel if she'd want to test this out sometime, though of all the things I've seen before in my life I'm not sure I'd be prepared for Mabel's unfiltered subconscious._

Mabel blew an offended raspberry at the page.

"Like I'd want to be that close to your brain either— I bet it's all numbers and giant statues of redheads in there," Mabel muttered to herself.

She closed the book once again and slumped back into her bed, her fingers tapping a frustrated rhythm on its cover. She stopped, catching herself. Now she was acting like Dipper, drumming her fingers like that. That decided it. She had read this book for too long. Any longer and she might find herself chewing on her gel pens.

She swiveled her legs over the edge of the bed and walked out of her room, with a fierce determination that died as soon as she entered Dipper's room. Her hand fell to her side as she registered his belongings in the dark and was hit with the smell of her brother, a smell that reminded her of roasted coffee grounds and campfires. That made her stop in her tracks, expecting to see his form resting on top of his bed covers or passed out at his desk.

He was in neither of those places and he felt farther away than before. She quietly walked into the room, though there was no worry of disturbing him or anyone, and very quickly returned the book to its place on the packed bookshelf.

She paused at the doorway, her hand resting on the frame as she glanced back into the dark room. Her foot tapped out a quick nervous beat on the floor for a few moments before she turned around and walked back into the room and tentatively sat herself on the edge of Dipper's unmade bed. The mattress was cold, but the warm scent was strongest here and she found her fingers idly running across the fabric of the worn old blanket, and her index finger hooked onto a hole worn into the material.

Mabel wriggled her way up the bed and lay back, her face pillowed in her hands as she shifted onto her side. She hadn't really been in Dipper's room that often ever since they'd moved into the apartment together and her visit here was almost like discovering a secret passageway in her home. She felt her eyelids begin to flutter and grow heavy as she stretched herself further across the bed, the scent in the air and the dim atmosphere in the room all working to lull her to sleep.

As the weight of sleep began to settle over her body, Mabel began to feel something which she'd never experienced before— a sense of lightness that was totally new. Her limbs felt both heavy as lead and insubstantial as air at the same time and though her closed eyes could see only darkness she felt that she could still _see_somehow, with a sight beyond sight. The doubled set of contrasting sensations were dizzying as Mabel's thoughts were being pulled in two direction- - to the familiar darkness of sleep and to another greater darkness that she saw beyond the space of her body, with glowing points shining like stars out in the distance.

_Is this… am I doing that projecting thing from Dippers book?_

With a feeling of trepidation Mabel turned her sight back toward the source of the feeling of heaviness and she saw the outline of her own body lying in Dipper's bed. The world looked dull and colorless, as though it were carved from shadows and static. She saw a line, delicate as a strand of silver spider silk, anchoring her mind to the sleeping Mabel. Her spectral fingers reached out and plucked at the strand and she giggled as it gave a twang like a stretched rubberband, the curious vibration somehow tickling her mind.

_Weird_. _Kind of cool though_.

_This really is easier than the book made it out to be— or I'm just naturally awesome. Could be either one._

Mabel wondered if the situation should be freaking her out more, but compared with the mind-twisting nightmare of a Smile Dip high or any of her other odd childhood adventures, this didn't seem overly strange.

As she considered this, her hands had idly played with the lifeline between her physical and spectral form. Her pinky finger slipped, hooking onto a strand that didn't feel like her own. She looked down at it. It looked just the same as the one tethered to her body, but it didn't send a shiver down her spine. It felt warm in her hands, like body heat. On closer inspection there were several other strands drawn from her body, shimmering in the passing light, all sent out in different directions.

Her curiosity almost drew her to picking them all up in her hands, but the one already radiating, wound around her fingers, comforted her. She didn't want to let go of it or lose it amongst all the others.

Her eyes squinted, trying to register where it led to in the dark and briefly passing light. She pulled gently, working one hand over the other as she followed the trail. She was walking on air, her hair floating behind her.

Words like 'time' or 'distance' had very little meaning here in the strange floating space that Mabel had found herself in. The closest she could come to describing it was that it was somewhat similar to how she had felt when she and her brother had entered Stan's mind many years ago, but even that wasn't quite the same. That whole incident had been the result of a botched possession and outside magic, but despite the strangeness of her current situation this somehow felt 'natural.' She felt herself moving through the emptiness, somewhere between swimming and flying, as she followed the pulse of the chord gripped tenderly in her hand.

Her sight adjusted and she could see a light shining in the hazy distance that flickered with the same silver-blue color of the strand. The closer she came to the source the warmer the strand grew in her hand. It was more than simple warmth now - there were other things flowing up from the contact between her 'hand' and the chord— the shadows of feelings or snippets of imagery like half-remembered dreams. She could make out a shape in the light, still hazy due to its brightness, but with an unmistakable aura about it that sent a warm pulse flowing through Mabel's chest.

_Dipper_.

She'd almost expected to find him waiting for her, floating through this odd emptiness, but instead there was just a large pulsing mass shrouded in glowing mist, which had shadowy images drifting across its surface.

_Is this his mind? Is he dreaming right now?_

Tentatively, Mabel reached out her hand and touched the tip of her finger gently to the surface of the cloud. She was pleased to find that though it felt strangely warm it was harmless. She felt a strange sense of reassurance after her brief contact with the cloud— it was almost like the feeling she got when Dipper was in the room with her, even if he wasn't saying anything. A sense of his presence.

_I wonder…_

Even though she realized that she hadn't breathed once during the whole time that she was outside of her body Mabel still took a deep breath out of habit, her spectral cheeks puffing up with non-existent air.

_Here goes nothing!_

Holding her ghostly nose, Mabel took a running leap through the void and cannonballed right into her twin's dream.

She slipped through the membrane. The sensation of a waterfall passing over her encouraged her to hold her breath longer. She rolled, still floating, and gracefully fell out of fetal position. Her feet skated over the ground below her, reassuring her that she was still in a dream-like state. She looked up to where she came from, but saw only tall pine trees the size of skyscrapers. Her feet met the ground, because she decided to walk. Pine needles crunched under her footsteps. The smell of cedar and moss and firewood was everywhere.

"Sooo…" She held a hand up over her brow like a sun visor, looking at her surroundings. "This is what's inside your brain, bro-bro?"

There were no colors, similar to being in Grunkle Stan's mind, and shadows played ominously in various corners of Dipper's mind. It was quiet. Too quiet. Like any minute something was going to jump at her. Which… considering Dipper's paranoia, made sense.

She frowned slightly. "it's just as underwhelming as I imagined. Sheesh." She started to walk, the dark eerie corners only slightly intimidating. Whenever her heart pounded too hard she reassured herself that she was inside Dipper's head. If anything, she was safer here than anywhere else. Dipper would never hurt her.

He would kick her out though as soon as he found her, undoubtedly because he would be hiding some embarrassing memories.

Mabel stopped in her tracks at the bottom of a marble staircase leading to a statuesque building that reminded her of that history museum they had visited to on a high school field trip. Two griffins sat regally on the sidelines of the staircase, their faces cold and hard like the stone they were carved from.

She took one step on the stairs and jumped when she heard their stone eyes grinding in stone sockets as they followed her progress up the stairs.

Halfway up the stairs she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. More than feeling like she was being watched, she felt like someone was right behind her, glaring holes into her backside.

Oh geez, am I going to be paranoid too now that I'm in Dipper's head? she thought. She rolled her eyes and turned around, expecting thin air. Because that's all it had to be. Just paranoia. Right?

She jumped back and fell on her butt, finding one of the stone griffins uprooted from its post and in her face.

"What are you doing here?"

Mabel supposed she should have been a bit more scared about the fact that she was being interrogated by a piece of statuary, but she found a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth when she recognized the voice that boomed out of its stone beak: it sounded exactly like her brother when he was trying to be extra-serious.

"Oh, well, I just happened to be in the neighborhood and I thought it might be nice to pop in and see how my favorite twin bro was doing tonight," Mabel said innocently, picking herself up off the steps and brushing imaginary dust from her skirt.

"Oh… um… outsiders are forbidden to enter here though," the Dipper-Griffin said, its voice sounding slightly hesitant.

"Right, right— I should stay out, I'm being warned by the great and powerful Dipzard of Oz, got it," Mabel said with a cheeky grin.

"No, seriously Mabel— c'mon, this isn't cool," the statue said, its voice passing from intimidating to a more nervous tone.

"Do you have to look like a bird monster right now? I mean, I already know it's you," Mabel said.

The marble beast gave a sigh, and with the grinding sound of stone shifting against stone, it shrunk and re-shaped itself into the more familiar form of her brother, though still made of marble.

"Technically I'm not really Dipper, I'm more like… I don't know, the part of him that's in charge of watching out for stuff."

"Dipper has a magic statue-him guarding his brain?" Mabel asked.

"Well I mean, I'm not really magic, or a statue either— I'm pretty sure Dipper doesn't actually know I exist. I'm more of a subconscious manifestation of my, I mean Dipper's, paranoia and desire for privacy."

Mabel rubbed her chin, nodding. "Uh huh. Okay. Do you take suggestions? 'Cause this place could use a lot of redecorating— and I'd like to help." She only half-meant her offer. Now that she had found a guard dog— bird— thing of Dipper, that only confirmed that her brother was hiding juicy blackmail material. And she didn't mean the boring kind of blackmail that gets people arrested. No, the type of blackmail that she could endlessly tease Dipper about later and use to get him to do her homework.

"Sure you would," he said sarcastically, not believing her in the slightest. Was he really not Dipper Dipper? Because he sure sounded like him, especially in suspecting she was up to no good.

"So, since we're going to be getting chummy on this whole redecorating project I should probably figure out what to call you," Mabel said.

"Call me?" the marble version of her brother said, sounding somewhat at a loss for words.

"Well yeah, I mean— it would be kind of confusing to call you Dipper since you just said you aren't really the same as him, right?" Mabel said.

"I guess… to be honest this is the longest conversation I've ever had with anything so I've never considered having a name," the statue said with a shrug.

"How about… Tyrone?" Mabel said, crossing her fingers and hoping that the little tidbit she'd read in her brother's old personal journal years ago was true.

"Yeah… actually I kind of like the sound of that," the statue Dipper replied, a wide grin of white stone teeth shining out from between its carved lips.

"I think it suits you perfectly," Mabel said, laying on the charm with a trowel. "You seem so bold and confident. It's a name with real character."

"You really think so?" the marble Dipper asked, stone fingers stroking his chin speculatively.

"Oh I know so," Mabel said with a sage nod.

"Yeah, then okay— Tyrone it is," the guardian of the steps said happily.

"Well, where do you think we should start with the whole redecoration campaign? Because this whole spooky forest thing just isn't doing it for me. What if Dipper has girls over to visit his brain sometime— total turn off," Mabel said.

"Do girls go into brains a lot?" the statue asked.

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" Mabel said.

"Good point," Tyrone replied.

"Say, how about you go check out some of those trees over there and see where you think would be a good spot for maybe a nice foyer, or a fountain or something, and I'll just head into that building and see if there's some stuff we can use for building supplies," Mabel said, her voice smooth as silk, not a ripple of nervousness showing on her face.

"Do you really think that would be okay?" Tyrone asked hesitantly.

"Why wouldn't it be? I mean, you were made to keep out intruders, but I'm pretty sure he didn't mean me, right?" Mabel said, just the slightest hint of persuasion in her voice. Too much and she'd tip him off for sure.

"Weeeellll…." the statue said, hesitation plain in its voice.

"ThanksI'lltellDipperyousaidthiswasyourideabye," Mabel said quickly as she dashed up the steps, flinging wide the double doors and hopping inside before Tyrone could even register what had just happened.

The doors closed fast behind her, blanketing her in darkness. She ran and ran without looking back, confident that Dipper would subconsciously lead her where she needed to go. Just as she felt like she was running in circles,twinkling lights came to life one by one on the ceiling above her. It was the night sky and all its stars knit into constellations. The memory of the portal under the Mystery Shack edged into her thoughts. She felt just as small as she had back then. Stars did that, she guessed, made you realize how insignificant you really are.

She reached her hands out on both sides, feeling for anything that could be hidden in the dark. Her hands swept through still air, and after what felt like fifteen minutes, her arms tired and she let them fall to her sides.

This was a lot more boring than she guessed. Either Dipper really didn't have that much going on (unlikely), or he really was hiding something and this trial existed in case "Tyrone" failed at his guard post. In that case, that meant that Dipper's secrets ran deeper than she suspected, and that scared her.

She laid down on the floor, blowing the hair out of her eyes in frustration. Whatever the secrets were, they couldn't be that bad, could they? And Dipper loved her, there was no doubt in her mind. So why? What was Dipper hiding— especially from her?

As Mabel shifted about on the hard stone floor she found her eyes drawn back up to the field of stars above in the endless "sky" over her head. She'd never paid too much attention to astronomy or the stars in general outside of enjoying them just for the view, but there was one constellation that she'd be able to recognize even blindfolded, and she saw it twinkling down at her from above brighter than the rest of the stars.

_The Big Dipper._

She squinted to make sure she wasn't imagining things (if anything couldn't be said to be imagined in this crazy place), and saw that the stars making up the constellation actually were brighter than the ones around them, and that the light coming from them was just slightly steadier.

_So… is Dipper hiding his stuff way up there? _Mabel wondered to herself.

She stood up and looked around, finding herself still hemmed in by darkness on all sides, without even a sense of how large the area she was in was. Stan's mind had been much more straightforward, simple doors and labeled areas all around but leave it to Dipper to turn his brain into some sort of puzzle right out of a videogame or something.

"Okay… so the key is the Big Dipper… where's the door then? Is it a code or a password or what?" Mabel pondered out loud.

She scratched at the back of her head, tilting it sideways as she stared up at the stars again.

_Wait a minute_, she thought. _This is the inside of his head… so what if it's actually just the stars themselves?_

Mabel stared up at the brightest star in the corner of the constellation and hopped, her arms stretched over her head like a superhero. She only managed to get a few feet off the ground and then plopped back down on the marble.

_Okay… wait, why am I jumping?_ Mabel thought. _This is a dream, I can do anything!_

Mabel scrunched up her face in concentration and heard a loud 'POP' sound as a small platform with a set of huge feathery wings appeared beside her. She hopped onto the small square and pointed up at the stars, and felt a grin split her face as the wings on the side of the platform began to beat with a slow graceful rhythm, carrying her up into the sky with surprising speed.

The closer she drew to the sky the stranger the stars became— what had looked like plain balls of light from down below began to become larger and she saw shadows moving across their surfaces, points of light transforming into pools of memory.

The star she was flying toward was the brightest of all of them though, larger and seeming to pulse strangely. Unlike the others, its surface seemed to be opaque, but it shone like a huge, faceted gemstone, and hummed with a strange pulsing tone as she drew closer to it.

Curiosity had brought her this far, and now she felt that she couldn't go back even if she wanted to - something about this sphere was drawing her towards it. Mabel stopped the platform beside the huge glowing star and reached out toward it, her touch gentle. Her hands passed easily into it and she felt the sphere grip her and start to pull her inside. There was a moment of panic, but she calmed herself… nothing here could hurt her, she was sure of it. With a deep breath she let the sphere absorb her fully, a thrill pulsing inside her to discover what was inside.

"More doors?! Really, Dipper?" At least now they were actually doors and not strange constellation puzzles or stone statues to bar her path. She was getting closer; she could feel it, like a pulse under her fingertips.

There were murmurs and whispers coming from the doors, and as she neared one of them she recognized it as Dipper's voice. He was muttering about something. She pressed her ear against the door but it was still incoherent. Her hand wrapped around the door handle and the whispers stopped. The door was locked tight, or someone was holding onto the handle from the other side, aware of her presence.

Mabel crossed her arms, puffing out her cheeks like a chipmunk. "Fine! Be that way. I didn't want to snoop on that memory anyway." Though she totally had.

She spun on her toes to the door adjacent to the one she tried. The murmuring had stopped from the first door but the others were at full volume. Rather than try the knob this time, she kicked down the door. (She would apologize for breaking and entering later).

Going through the door was like stepping into the past.

She was in their living room back at their parents' place. The windows were open, letting in the spring air. The curtains billowed. It smelled like straw and pollen and she felt the urge to sneeze.

Mabel heard the murmuring, this time, closer, and found Dipper beside her, spread out on the side of the couch, nose in a book. Mabel nearly jumped on him with glee, but stopped herself, noting that he didn't see her or notice that she had kicked down a door that phased through his face.

The Dipper sitting on the couch was the same as the stone griffin she had encountered earlier. He looked and acted like Dipper, but he wasn't exactly Dipper. Just a stray bit of his consciousness.

He was mumbling furiously, and Mabel saw his eyes were in his lap, not reading the book he had clutched in his shaking hands.

"Yeesh. What's your dealie-o, bro-bro?"

Dipper quickly glanced over the top of the book and Mabel's eyes followed. Her eyes widened when she saw…herself? She could have sworn her button nose was more button-y and cute. However, the prom dress she was wearing in the memory was just as gorgeous as she remembered: hot pink with sequins that made the light bounce around the room as she sashayed. She was barefoot, holding her high heels in her one hand as she twirled around the living room, and singing Disney princess songs. Her taffeta dress spun around her, the petticoat crinkled with the spring in her steps.

It was weird to see this memory outside her perspective. She recalled dancing and singing as she eagerly waited for her friends. She remembered teasing Dipper and urging him to go to prom (and he eventually did— in wrinkled black pants and an even more wrinkled white shirt). The part with him reading a book on the couch sounded about right, but his mumbling wasn't a part of her own memories. She leaned closer to him to eavesdrop, but it was like trying to translate one of the adults from the Peanuts cartoons.

He was sweating profusely and red in the face. He looked troubled, like he was trying to hold in a big fart— or a secret.

She backed out of the memory, in case it was the former, and stared at the damage she had caused.

"I'm supposed to be renovating anyway," she finally said, a little shaken up by the memory she had walked into. She didn't know what it meant, or why it was there. Why would Dipper hold onto a memory of her dancing around in her prom dress? Was she just exceptionally adorable that day? Or maybe the mind held onto memories, regardless of whether they mattered to the person or not.

She was sure Dipper wouldn't approve of an open window into one of his memories . "I'm going to need a repairman… but who— just kidding, I know who!" She snapped her fingers. Manipulating her surroundings in the mindscape was easier this time.

"Hey, girl-dude," Soos waved, hammer in hand.

"Soos!" Mabel ran into his arms, hugging him. It had been a while since she had seen the real Soos. She had a passing thought about visiting him in his dreams later, but Dipper's mind was strange enough. She wasn't sure if she should make this a regular thing, even if it was cheaper than a bus ticket.

"Do you think you could do me a favor and fix up this door? I'm not sure it would be a good idea to leave a bunch of old memories leaking around in Dipper's brain," Mabel asked.

"No problem, hambone, I'll get your bro's brain doors back in a jiffy!" Soos said cheerfully, pulling a hammer out from the tools hanging from his belt and setting to work.

_I wonder if leaving an imaginary Soos running around Dipper's head will be a problem. Hmm… maybe I should… no, this should be fine. Things could get a little out of control if I keep making stuff to take care of other stuff_, Mabel thought to herself.

She turned back toward the hallway of murmuring doors and tried to take in the scene more carefully. The doors seemed to stretch on as far as she could see, all unmarked and with very little difference between the individual doors themselves— it was kind of like being in the lobby of a very strange hotel. She began to walk at a steady pace down the hall, occasionally pausing when she recognized a word or a phrase out from among the constant murmur of voices talking, but they always fell strangely silent when she drew closer toward the door, and smashing her way through the hall of her brother's memories seemed like it probably wouldn't be a good idea. She might not be able to make enough copies of Soos to keep up with the work.

Just when she felt about ready to turn around and try to find her way back out of Dipper's mind her eyes registered something in the distance that was different from the monotonous appearance of the hall— a detail that stood out from the other doors. There was light coming out from under the door and around the frame, flickering brightly with a steady silvery-blue pulse that was almost exactly the same shade as the cord that had brought her here.

Mabel quickened the pace of her steps as she drew closer to the illuminated doorway, feeling the same strong pull like the one which had first led her into this bizarre world in the first place. She could feel Dipper's presence here, not the dulled awareness that she felt from being among his memories, but an almost physical sensation. She hesitated when she reached the door itself, her hand stopping halfway to the polished brass knob… Messing with the statue-Dipper had been fun, but this was something else entirely. How would the real Dipper feel when he saw her here? What would he say? Would he be angry that she'd managed to sneak her way into his mind somehow?

_Well… I've come this far, haven't I? Plus, I wouldn't have even ended up here if it weren't for the notes that Dip had left in his dumb old nerd book anyway, so it's not like it was my idea._

_Anyway if he gets mad I can always say that Tyrone let me in. That should do the trick._

The brass door knob was warm, like holding her brother's hand. She couldn't remember the last time they had held hands. Some time ago Dipper just stopped reaching for her hand, or when she reached for him, he would drift away. It had stung the first few times, and their mom had noticed how it hurt her, reassuring her that he was just growing up. That was fine and all, growing up was inevitable. But she was afraid they would grow apart.

It had been her idea that they share an apartment, although they went to different colleges in the same area. It wasn't just for convenience though. It was a test to see if Dipper really was growing apart from her. When he said yes a wave of relief had flushed through her. She didn't even mind his rule about not bringing boys over.

Whispers didn't permeate from the other side of the door, and as she turned the knob, it yielded, as if inviting her. She began to push forward when a marble hand enveloped hers and pulled the door shut.

Her eyes widened and she whirled around. Tyrone's hand moved over her wrist, his back pressed against the door protectively.

"How's redecorating coming along?" he asked dryly.

"G—"

"That wasn't a question," the other griffin interrupted from the rafters, hanging upside-down like a bat. It left its perch, somersaulting as it transformed to look like Dipper just as its counterpart had done. The difference between the two was he kept the wings.

"You should have kicked her out sooner," it scolded its partner.

Tyrone messed with the bill of his cap, blushing slightly. "Ugh. I know. you know how it is though."

The winged Dipper crossed his arms. "Point taken." Its fixed gaze on her was intense, reminding her of the times Dipper had had enough of her follies. But there was a tiny smile tugging the corners of its mouth that should have made her relax. But it didn't. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her self-conscious, like, did she have enough glitter in her hair?

"So, I guess that other statue on the steps was another Dipper too, then?" Mabel said sheepishly.

"Yes, and you definitely shouldn't be here right now," the second Dipper said as sternly as possible.

"How come? I mean, Tyrone didn't think it was that bad of an idea," Mabel lied.

"Wait, Tyrone?" the winged Dipper said, confused.

"Yeah, you know— your buddy over there," Mabel said, pointing toward the wingless guardian.

"How come he gets to be Tyrone?" the winged Dipper asked, his voice slightly petulant beneath its strange stoney rasp.

"What, you don't think that I look like a Tyrone?" the wingless Dipper said.

"I'm just saying that maybe the Dipper that let an intruder waaay deep inside the hall of memories and dreams probably isn't the one that deserves the better name," the winged statue said in a somewhat condescending tone.

"Oh, screw you, man, you could have done something about it earlier if you had thought I was doing a bad job."

"Boys, boys, you don't have to fight," Mabel said in a placating tone, "I mean, I'm sure there's some fair way to settle this."

"Well, maybe there… wait, no— I'm not going to fall for this," the winged Dipper said quickly.

"Fall for what?" Mabel asked innocently.

"I've seen enough of Dipper's memories of cartoons to know how this goes, and I'm not letting you trick us out of doing our job again," the winged Dipper said, its voice returning to the stern and very unnatural-for-Dipper tone.

"I'm shocked, absolutely shocked, that you would accuse me of doing anything underhanded," Mabel said, her head thrown back dramatically and her hand pressed to her chest as if her heart was tearing in two.

"Yeah, cut Mabel some slack," the wingless Dipper said.

"You stay out of this!" the winged Dipper said.

"Hey, you shouldn't talk to Tyrone like that— he's only trying to help," Mabel said, going over to lay a hand on the marble shoulder of the guardian.

"Stop calling him Tyrone," the winged Dipper said, his voice sounding startled at being ganged up on all of a sudden. Its stone eyes chafed, staring at Mabel's hand on the other Dipper. Very pointedly it made a grab for her hand, the stern expression broken in favor of something desperate and raw that Mabel couldn't exactly pick up on.

"Ow!" she yelped.

The stone hand that yanked her forward disintegrated, and the winged Dipper's jaw dropped, his eyes large and afraid. "Mabel! I'm sorry— I— I didn't mean to."

It started to reach out to comfort her with its other hand, the one that hadn't disintegrated, but then backed away, disappearing into the shadows with shame, leaving her with Tyrone.

Tyrone looked just as bad as his counterpart, his features worn as if exposed to the elements over time. His mouth had disappeared and was smooth as polished stone, not as chiseled and expressive as the first time he had confronted her.

"Wow. So, uh this secret stuff is a big deal, huh?" She frowned.

Tyrone stiffly nodded.

"Why? Do you not trust me?" Her arms wrapped around its body. Although it was cold, its form was familiar and comforting.

Its chiseled chin gently rested on her forehead. "Mabes. Of course I trust you. It's myself that I don't trust."

"The what now?" That was an answer she didn't expect.

"I'm so scared," it whispered into her hairline. "I can't stop you from opening the door. If you want to, then go ahead. You're already this far. But I'm afraid of what would happen if you go through it. What will happen to us." It squeezed her shoulders. "Just… try not to freak out? I— Dipper— never asked for this."

"Asked for what?" She was just as worried as she was curious now. Tyrone's body caved in her arms and sand passed through her fingers and formed a pile at her feet. A gust of wind passed through, sweeping what was once Tyrone away.

"Yikes," Mabel muttered to herself as she brushed the fine marble dust from off her fingers with a shudder.

Sometimes Dipper really had a tendency to overdramatize.

_Seriously, what could be so bad that was worth all the secrecy… I'm pretty sure he's never killed a guy or anything._

_Right?_

Mabel glanced around the hallway in every direction she could think of just to make sure there weren't any other surprises waiting for her. The coast looked clear, not a living soul in the entire 'building' except for her and the tiny dot of the Soos she'd made off in the distance putting the finishing touches on repairing the door she'd broken.

She turned back to the door and squared her shoulders. The statue that she had named Tyrone had said that whatever was behind here might freak her out, but she was sure this was just another one of Dipper's attempts to protect her. Probably not anything worth getting this worked up over.

After a few moments she realized that she had been hesitating to take the knob again and scolded herself for her indecision— hadn't she come flying out through some sort of weird crazy magic all this way just to see Dipper? What was the point of stopping know just because some fake version of him was being all super cryptic and weird? Anyway, what if the secret was that he was in trouble? It was pretty much her duty to open the door now and find out if there was something that he needed her help for… it hurt her sometimes the way he carried things so close to the chest, not wanting to let anyone in on his problems.

She grasped the door handle and turned, stepping into a scene that was completely different from anything that she had been expecting.

The light around her had changed from the flat gray-white lighting of the hall and made the colors in the room leap out at her even further after the monochrome world she'd been travelling through.

It was blinding white and silver, forcing Mabel to conjure up a pair of sunglasses. There were mirrors on every side of the brightly lit room, and on both sides of her, at the entrance to the scene were two fountains full of bubbling champagne. So far Mabel liked the scenery, and if she had been truthful about redecorating, she would say this was an improvement and wouldn't change a thing.

She took slow careful steps forward. Although the atmosphere wasn't as bleak as the two Dippers had promised, Tyrone's words had stayed with her, echoing with her footsteps.

The fancy fountains reminded her of Pacifica's parties, but as she trekked deeper, passing by a punch bowl and stepped over abandoned flower corsages, a different impression formed. Nearby there was an unmanned camera pointing at a curtain, which had a trellis arch overhead woven with fake flowers.

She tilted her head, unsure what prom had to do with Dipper's possible and unfortunate career as an axe murder.

"Okaaay. I'm waiting to get freaked out. Any minute now," she called out.

Upstage, where the band should be playing, there was a curtain behind the lone drum set. There was no place else to go but forward, with mirrors closing in on her left and right sides. The curtain was red and looked heavy, but as she reached to peel it back the cloth ran over her fingertips like water.

She ducked her head, the cloth falling behind her, and wondered how much longer she would have to walk. How much longer Dipper would lead her on this wild goose chase? She was beginning to lose her patience, but her temper scurried away once her eyes rested on the center of the room.

In front of her were two tangled bodies, and though she had seen a snippet before whipping her eyes away, she had seen enough to know what was going on. Her face turned beet red, embarrassed, and angry. Angry that Dipper had worked this secret up when all along it was just a sex dream.

_Seriously, leave it to Dipper to turn even something this simple into some sort of weird treasure hunt or something._

_I can kind of guess why Tyrone wasn't thrilled with the idea of me walking in on this though… maybe I should leave?_

She turned back toward the curtain, feeling incredibly self-conscious about the situation, when a gasp from behind her froze her in her tracks.

She hadn't gotten a good look at the girl in the bed with Dipper before she had turned away, but there was something about the voice that was eerily familiar. She couldn't quite place her finger on it, but even if it didn't quite sound like anyone she knew that didn't stop the impression that she _knew_ this voice.

Mabel gnawed on her lower lip. Would it be creepy to check out who her bro was having dirty thoughts about? Yes. But she had crossed the line long ago when she entered his headspace.

The voice gasped Dipper's name, and that uncanny familiarity hit her again. Was it one of her friends? Was that why the girl sounded familiar? All creepiness aside, maybe if she knew who it was Dipper liked, she could help set them up together.

She swallowed. _Okay, Mabel. You might see Dipper's you-know-what, and see him doing the special tango, but you're a professional matchmaker. You got this girl._

"Who is this hussy?!" she shouted, psyching herself up.

Both bodies froze, staring at her. Dipper was instantly recognizable. The woman straddling him was less so. She didn't look like Candy, or Chelsea, or any of Mabel's friends. Her hair was long and wavy, reaching her knees, and she envied how it shone under the bright lights. She carried herself like a model though her body wasn't conventionally perfect. She was short, and there was a softness to her that you didn't see from the angular models in magazines. Even still, her complexion was perfect, hair flawless, and her smile was as straight and white as a toothpaste ad.

The only thing recognizable about her, other than her voice, was the hot pink prom dress stretched taut around her body. It looked tighter than she remembered. When she had worn it she could barely fill out the top half. Meanwhile, the woman on top of Dipper could barely contain her breasts inside of the dress. Any second the dress— or her breasts— would pop like a balloon.

Suddenly Mabel remembered where she'd heard the voice before— it was the same familiar/unfamiliar sound she heard whenever she heard herself talking in a home video, or that one time that she'd made a somewhat ill-advised karaoke audition tape for a local band.

"Um… Mabel?" Dipper said nervously from the bed. "Uh… why are there two of you here?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing," Mabel said as she glanced between her brother and the now familiar face of the girl straddling him.

"Wait… are you the real… how did you… oh god!" Dipper said, his voice growing more anxious as realization dawned in his eyes.

"I read your dumb book," Mabel remarked.

"You read that—" Dream Mabel pushed him into the mattress, giggling as she interrupted him. "Agh! Mabel. This— this doesn't mean anything. You know how you told me once that you dreamed that you went on a date with McGucket's wife. It's like that. It's…" He gurgled under a siege of kisses. He resurfaced for air, and babbled, trying to defend himself, but it seemed the more he tried, the more relentless Dream Mabel became.

Whatever Dipper said at that moment fell on deaf ears as Mabel stood in shock. A mixture of emotions was churning through her. She was embarrassed and angry still, but also relieved somehow. That Dipper wasn't an axe murderer or had some deep dark secret like Stan had. That Dipper still loved her, in fact more so than she thought. That Dipper didn't find her annoying.

Ever since he stopped being physically affectionate towards her she had begun to worry that her charm had waned and he thought she was obnoxious. And when they moved into the little apartment together a few minutes from campus, she sometimes wondered if he had done it out of obligation. That he loved her, but not quite as much as he used to. She could never talk about it to anyone, because that concern sounded weird, right? And if she asked Dipper that would just be awkward and probably deepen the rift that was already there in her head.

So she had grudgingly accepted the relationship Dipper had offered her, always wondering why. What had she done?

But seeing him now, fighting against an idealized version of her, everything started to make sense.

Should she be concerned that her twin brother was having illicit sexual fantasies about her? She was past freaking out now. But she should be grossed out, she thought, and she was waiting for the urge to vomit or to shout at Dipper in disgust. But her gut didn't twist. Rather, every part of her body relaxed, like a huge weight had been lifted from her.

She turned back to Dipper and saw him still babbling justifications in-between the tsunami of kisses falling around his cheeks and lips, his face an amazingly vivid shade of red, and all of a sudden she felt a laugh bubble up from deep inside her chest. Maybe laughter wasn't the expected response, but then again it wasn't like this was really a situation that anyone was really supposed to find themselves in in the first place. Dipper's face froze at the sound of her laughter, his expression unreadable but his eyes wide and wary.

Mabel walked further into the room, nearing the bed, and tapped the shoulder of the imaginary version of herself currently writhing on top of her brother.

"Hey beautiful, tag-out for now," Mabel said mildly.

Dream Mabel glanced up at her and shrugged, rolling off the edge of the bed and straightening out her disheveled dress and hair while humming a few snatches of an old BABBA song to itself.

Dipper quickly sat up and started to flatten down his tousled hair and wipe at the number of fuschia lipstick smudges plastered against his neck and face with the back of his hand, his eyes not meeting Mabel's.

"Sooooo.. I guess you've got a much better taste in girls than I'd thought," Mabel joked, feeling a ripple of nervousness pulse through her.

"This isn't… I mean… this is probably just some sort of subconscious symbolism or something, it doesn't necessarily mean that um…" Dipper said, his voice trailing off.

Mabel reached for his hand. He pulled back but she held on. He didn't want her to let go. She knew this now, defiantly tethering him to her.

"Mabe—!" he shouted, his ears turning red, staring at their hands. "You're not helping."

Mabel scooted closer to him. "Dipper." She held his chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Didn't you hear me earlier? I tagged myself in."

"Very funny," Dipper said dryly, his hand sweating in hers. "You're just another figment of my imagination, taunting me."

"Am I?" She batted her eyelashes.

Dipper side-eyed the Dream Mabel sitting on the sidelines, breasts heaving in the prom dress. "Yeaaaah. I've been through this a dozen times."

"Only a dozen times. . ?" Mabel smirked.

Dipper guffawed, trying to yank his hand away from her again. "Come on, this isn't cool. It's embarrassing— and wrong! I— I shouldn't be thinking about you this way. This isn't something you would do, Mabel"

Mabel felt something inside her twist. "And why wouldn't I?!"

He scratched the back of his neck. " 'Cause…you know. You're just not that kind of girl."

"Uh huh," Mabel said with a note of sarcasm in her voice. "Clearly you know the inside of my mind."

"Well I mean… not like that," Dipper said.

"Hey, is it my turn to tag in again?" Dream Mabel asked from the sidelines, a gleam shining in her eyes.

"Hold your horses, sister, we're having a moment here," Mabel said shortly.

"'Kay," the imaginary Mabel said, returning to her idle humming.

"So… I'm 'not that kind of girl,' but apparently here in your dreams I am?" Mabel asked Dipper with a slight teasing note in her voice.

Dipper scratched at his upper arm uncomfortably.

"It's not like that," he said defensively.

Mabel turned her attention back to the artificial version of herself sitting on the bedside, kicking her feet idly as she hummed old 80's songs.

"Well, the hair is nice," Mabel said as she looked her over, "but you may have gone overboard with the stuffing." She reached out and poked the false Mabel in one of her breasts.

"If you die of embarrassment in a dream, do you die in real life?" Dipper asked no one in particular as he slumped back onto the mattress and covered his face with his hands. He could feel Mabel looking at him expectantly, still waiting for an answer. "I don't know what they actually look like so I had to wing it. I went overboard. Obviously." He raked his fingers over his face, ashamed by the statement. He had thought saying that would make this less embarrassing for him somehow, and since this was a dream, and the girl beside him couldn't be the real Mabel, there couldn't be any consequences. Except saying that aloud made him feel like more of a scumbag than ever before.

"But the booty is on point." Mabel noted, lifting up the dress.

"That's because of those yoga pants you wear around the apartment."

"They do make my butt look good." Mabel grinned. "You're missing a few other things though, bro."

"Like what?"

"The scar right here." She fingered the hem of her shirt hesitantly before lifting it up enough to show her ribs.

Dipper's eyes deviated from the spot at first, catching a glimpse of her purple leopard-print bra. He caught himself— or she caught him— and his eyes rested on the moon-shaped scar near her rib cage. She'd gotten it when she caught a cait sidhe and it clawed her in retaliation. The other claw marks had been shallow, but the one here was deeper and left a lasting impression.

"You never told me it left a scar."

Mabel smiled. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

"Well, that would make sense— I mean, there's a lot that you don't know about me either, like this whole mess right here," Dipper said.

Mabel toyed with the hem of her shirt as she lowered it back down over her torso again.

"Why not tell me about it then? I like knowing stuff about you," Mabel said.

Dipper eyed her again, his gaze lingering on the spot where the scar was.

"Either I've gotten really good at torturing myself or… what was the book you said you'd read?" Dipper asked.

"I don't remember the title— it was some goofy-sounding thing about projecting or dreams or whatever. There was a pretty neat looking picture on the cover though," Mabel replied.

"_Secrets of Astral Projection_?" Dipper asked.

"That sounds about right," Mabel said.

"Okay, now I'm sure that you aren't really here— there's no reason the real Mabel would ever want to read that," Dipper said.

"I was really bored," Mabel admitted. "Also I guess I just missed you."

Dipper's hand finally relaxed in hers. "You missed me?"

"Course I did, Dipstick."

"Mabel, I've only been gone for three days."

Mabel squeezed his hand. "No you haven't. I mean, yeah, physically you've been gone for three days but, I dunno… Dip…" She frowned, biting her bottom lip. "You've been kinda… really really distant for awhile."

Realization dawned on Dipper's face and he turned away slightly. "Well, Mabel. If that's really you. Just. Stuff's been going on. Y'know."

Mabel glanced at the Dream Mabel bobbing her head to a tune only she could hear. "Right. I think I know what kind of stuff."

"Yeah, its been… its just been a bit heavy," Dipper said.

Mabel felt the beat in her chest speed up slightly when Dipper's fingers returned her earlier squeeze with gentle pressure. She briefly wondered if the feeling meant that her heart was actually speeding up in her sleeping body back at the apartment, or if it was all just mental, before shoving the thought out of her mind— there was a time and a place for that kind of curiosity and this didn't feel like the time. Mabel's fingers stroked across the back of Dipper's hand and she continued to marvel at how_real_ the sensations were— the warmth, the texture, even the feel of the small hairs against her fingertips were all so vivid.

What had it felt like for Dipper when he had been kissing the dream version of her? Had he felt the same sort of warmth? Had her skin felt real against his?

"Hey, Dip. How do I feel?"

Dipper's pulse jumped in her hand. "What kind of question is that?"

Mabel drew his hand to her chest and pressed her lips against his knuckles. "It doesn't feel real, does it?"

"Yeah, it doesn't. But that's because I'm still not sure if this is something you want or would do. It feels like you, Mabel. I want to believe it's you. But I'm having trouble with that."

"Then… stop overthinking it." Mabel wet her lips, staring at his. "If it's just a dream, then it doesn't matter anyway."

"Is this… are you just another dream then?" Dipper asked.

Mabel sidled in closer towards him, and this time he didn't pull away from her. She could feel her heart start to beat even harder in her chest as she moved her face closer toward his.

"Well… yes and no," Mabel said as she grabbed hold of Dipper's shoulders and brushed her lips against his.

She was tempted to kiss him over and over again. On the mouth, on the tongue, his cheeks, but considering his hesitation, she began to pull back. He caught the back of her head and kissed her hungrily. His tongue threaded past her lips and ran over the edge of her teeth.

The feeling in her chest was light, like her lungs had filled up with too much helium and they would float away on the high. Mabel giggled as he dotted her neck with kisses, fingering the edge of her shirt. Real or not, he wanted to see what she looked like underneath. There was something natural about how her breasts felt against him. They were soft and not cumbersome. Average, really. And not intimidating.

His hands raced up her backside, artfully unhooking her bra (something he couldn't accomplish outside of dreamland). He felt her breasts tumble out, and his fingertips skirted underneath her armpits, drawing towards where the curve of her breasts began. He followed the trail, meeting her nipples, pinching them gently.

Mabel's eyelids fluttered, lashes brushing against Dipper's cheek. Okay, she had expected a lot more sidestepping and excuses from Dipper. Definitely not this. Not this at all. Not that she was complaining. Just wowee. Now she was having trouble believing this.

Dipper ground against her, kissing her hard, and she returned in kind, just as needy as he was. He lifted the shirt off her and the bra along with it. His eyes went over her body, and she flushed, seeing the intensity in his eyes as he took in the new details. Before she could cover herself, suddenly self-conscious, he kissed her again, with gentle nibbles in between kisses.

The little sparks of sensation singing through her skin started to dissolve the brief flash of hesitation she'd felt, and her own hands quickly wound their way up his back. Her fingers dug into his shoulder blades as she felt his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin along her neck. Everything was moving fast, but it all felt right here in this strange space that was so real and yet unreal at the same time.

Mabel started tugging at Dipper's shirt and a sudden flash of inspiration shot through her. Grabbing onto the lapels, she tugged hard at the cloth and it split neatly down the middle and then dissolved in a shower of glittery sparks that flashed off into nothingness.

"Tada!" Mabel exclaimed with a giggle as the last of the sparks faded into the air.

Dipper glanced at her in surprise and she gave him a smile.

"I just remembered where we were, so I thought it would be fun to add some special effects," Mabel said as she ran her hands along his now bare torso, enjoying the way the sensitive skin along his sides and lower belly twitched at her touch.

Their mouths met again in a hard kiss, teeth nibbling on each other's lips as their hands roamed along their bared skin. Mabel straddled Dipper and felt him lean back into the mattress when she pressed herself against him. Mabel gave a surprised squeak when she felt Dipper's hands grab the hem of her skirt and give it a slight tug that caused it to transform into a puff of smoke and disappear into thin air, leaving her completely exposed.

"Two can play at that game," Dipper said to her with a grin that she'd never seen on his face before.

The sudden exposure left her feeling bolder rather than more shy— there was nothing left to hide now. Well, nothing for _her_ to hide anyway…

"Pantsus awayus!" she trilled, tugging on his pants. The pants disappeared in a plume of smoke and a dozen white doves flew out, settling on Dream Mabel's shoulders. She didn't seem to mind.

At this point, Dipper was sure that the Mabel straddling him was the real deal. But seeing her smile, and leaning forward to kiss him, again and again, the laughter bubbling from her chest, still marveling at her joke… The reassurance that the feeling was mutual gave him an unexpected confidence boost.

They were both aware how naked they were now, and normally this would have been more awkward on his end. But the way she sat in his lap felt right. And holy Moses, she was teasing him directly, grinding on his erection, pre-cum leaking onto his abdomen. There was most certainly no room for hesitation in either of their minds. Only action.

Her hands splayed over his chest and he mirrored the action, teasing her nipples, taking in the cute noises she made, and how her upper lip curled. He raised his hips involuntarily, eager to be inside her, and very nearly made it, but she moved back, smirking haughtily.

"Nuh uh."

"Yes huh."

Mabel leaned her upper body down over Dipper, kissing him softly at first. Before long their lips were locked tightly together, and she could feel him groan frustration into her mouth when she ground her hips teasingly against his, enjoying how he rubbed up against her but still not letting him in.

She could feel his hips bucking up between her thighs as she gently rocked her lower body back and forth. Her plan to have a little fun teasing Dipper was serving to frustrate her more than she'd first expected though, and she involuntarily dug her nails tight into his shoulders when a motion had sent her clit brushing up hard against Dipper, sending a throb of pleasure up through her body.

She pressed her forehead to his. "Aww, geez, bro. What're you doing to me?"

"Making you feel good." He placed both hands on her hips. "I hope?"

She laughed, warming his face. "Yes. Yes, you are. Indeedly doing that."

He reached between them, directing his penis to her entrance. The hand on her hip pressed down and she gave, sinking into his lap, taking him all in.

"Hah- hot Belgian waffles…" She shuddered.

She could feel Dipper's fingers gripping tight against the flesh of her hips and she tentatively began to move against him. Every movement seemed to send new ripples of sensation inside her and her breaths grew shorter in her chest.

After a stunned moment Dipper had started to move as well, his hips rising up from the mattress to meet the rise and fall of Mabel's body over him. This wasn't anything like he could remember it being like when it had been him and the fake Mabel— everything felt more real, more raw. It wasn't even like those other occasions when he'd found himself in a girl's bed in the waking world— there was no fumbling, no awkward moments or interruptions. There was nothing but him and Mabel.

…and Dream Mabel.

"Aww, Dippy. She's such a hog. When am I gonna get some of that Dippingsauce?" She reached her hand hopefully towards Mabel. "Tag me in?"

Mabel looked between the dream version of herself and Dipper. She frowned slightly and started to bring her hand over to her counterpart's, and just as quickly pulled her hand away from her before the tag-in could connect.

"Are you cray-cray? Like I'm going to tag you in now? Or ever? Go get your own Dipstick, you… you not-me!"

Dipper snapped his fingers, extinguishing Dream Mabel and the doves perched on her shoulders. "Sorry…er, kind of forgot she was there?"

The real Mabel playfully batted him. "You scallywag! You just got excited having someone watch us, didn't you?"

"Um… I will neither confirm nor deny that accusation," Dipper joked, his voice shaking slightly as he felt the pressure of Mabel's hips grinding down against his.

Mabel felt her breath starting to come in short gasps as the warmth in the pit of her belly began to tighten. "Okay, I'll let you off easy this time," she said in a shaky voice.

Dipper didn't feel confident that he'd be able to reply coherently and he just tightened his grip on the rounded curve of Mabel's hips, loving how she felt against him. Some part of the back of his mind registered the words 'this time' and it sent a strange sense of lightness through his mind… it seemed to imply that a 'next time' was a distinct possibility.

Which was a really nice thought, considering he was really close. He tried to delay it, letting her slip out, catching his breath, and diving in again. Mabel was making it difficult for him, however. For every time he stopped, she rode him harder, fighting to reach her own orgasm. His nails dug into her ass, attempting to steady her but that only encouraged her.

He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't hold back. He pulled her into a hug and rolled over so he was on top of her, taking that control away from her. One arm wrapped possessively around her, and one hand trailed up her body, starting from the curve of her hip, and stopping at her breasts. He squeezed. He rolled his thumb over her nipple. He made her cry, and beg, and shout several nonsensical expletives. Her hands pressed into his arms, leaving marks, refusing to let him go.

She bucked her hips up to meet his thrusts, straining for some control, her body hot, pussy throbbing around him, clutching him like a vice. There was a sheen of sweat on her upper lip, and her chest and shoulders were flushed. Her eyelids fluttered deliriously. This was almost too much to take. Being on the cusp of orgasm in a dream and with a partner was nothing like touching herself. It nearly hurt how much she wanted him, needed him to help her come. She reached between them and rolled her index finger along the side of her clit. From the corner of her eye she saw Dipper watching her, probably taking notes. That nerd. She smiled.

The combination of her fingers and the friction between them all culminated inside her. She felt a tingling sensation from her head to her toes. Her mouth widened into what could have been a scream, but her voice hitched, sqeeking as she clamped onto him, undone. She heard him groan, his breath ragged and hot on her shoulder blade, coming too. His thrusts slowed, and he pushed deeper inside of her. He was desperate to stay inside of her, and didn't pull out, even as he slumped down over Mabel his weight resting heavily but not uncomfortably against her as she wrapped her arms around him. She could feel ripples of sensation shuddering through her own body like aftershocks as her heart began to slow from its jackhammer beat. She planted a kiss on Dippers neck, the taste of salt in his sweat making her forget for a moment that she was in a dream.

After a moment to regain his breath Dipper gingerly rolled off to the side and Mabel felt slightly chilled by the lack of his own heat against her. She wriggled to the side until they were in contact once again and draped his arm around her upper torso.

"That's better," she said with a somewhat sleepy puff of breath.

_Weird… what happens if I go to sleep when I'm dreaming? Do I end up in a double dream or something?_

"That was… um…," Dipper began, feeling a strange lightness now that the rush of adrenaline had passed.

"Yeah, really 'um,'" Mabel agreed with a nod.

"'Um' is good, right?" Dipper asked.

Mabel prodded him playfully in the chest.

"Really, Dip? After all that you think that 'um' might not be good?" she teased.

"I just like to be sure of things," Dipper said.

"Yes, 'um' is definitely good. Really good." Mabel replied. "So, you wanna do the real deal when you get home? Think you can handle the Mabel after that test drive?"

Dipper laughed deliriously. "Well, she has good steering and mileage."

"You bet she does," Mabel purred, beginning to sink into his chest. "Wait."

Dipper's eyebrows rose. "Wait, what?" he stammered. Was she having second thoughts? This quickly? Man, he really had screwed this up.

"Is it safe for me to fall asleep in your dream?"

Dipper's heart rate stabilized and he brushed a stray strand of hair out of his sister's face. "Not really. Didn't you read the part about getting sucked into someone's consciousness?"

"I mostly just read your notes, Dip. And even those were… EXHILARATING," she replied, with thick sarcasm.

"Thanks," Dipper muttered.

"So… should I do like, the dream walk of shame back to my own brain though, or how does this work?" Mabel asked idly as she toyed with the strange velvety material of the bedcovers.

"I think I can probably make you an easier way out than the way you came in— though I've never really had any guests in here before so this is kind of new to me," Dipper said.

Mabel sat up in the bed and Dipper lifted himself up beside her, their fingers twined together tightly.

"Do I have to go right away?" Mabel asked.

"If you're starting to feel sleepy, then yeah, that means it's getting dangerous to stick around." Dipper said with a small frown.

"Well, I guess you should make me that way out then," Mabel sighed.

"The competition's going to be over soon, so I'll be back home before you know it," Dipper said.

"Good, because visiting you this way turned into a whole production with the griffins and the giant forest and all that," Mabel said. "It's way easier to just go across the hallway when I want to bug you."

Dipper frowned slightly and pointed his finger at one of the mirrored walls of the room. After a moment of stillness, the surface of the mirror began to ripple and distort, the glass darkening and transforming into a pool of black speckled with stars. The twins rose to their feet and walked toward the mirror, pausing at the edge.

"See you soon, Dip," Mabel said, darting her head forward to plant a surprise kiss on his lips before she leapt backwards through the glass, which rippled once and then transformed into a sheet of silver once again, leaving Dipper staring at the reflection of himself.

"See you soon, Mabel," Dipper said.

* * *

There was a book lying on his bed when he arrived home. His palm rested on the cover before he picked it up. He turned towards the bookshelf. His first instinct was to put it back in its place, but a glittery bookmark caught his attention. He stopped, sat down on the bed, and opened to the marked page.

"Seriously?" He stuck his tongue out, disgusted by the glitter coating the page. This is why he appreciated that he and Mabel didn't have the same taste in books. Brushing away the glitter, he saw a familiar scrawl of handwriting that clashed with his own.

In neat, loopy cursive was a message encircled by a heart:

_Don't back down on me. Mabel is coming for you, Dippingsaucer._

_Love, The girl of your dreams._

_P.S. That means me, Mabel. I live across the hallway. Don't get lost._

Dipper read over the message fondly before working up the nerve to get out of bed. Mabel would be home soon, and he wanted to be there to greet her.


End file.
